Haunted
by ChocoAndCigs
Summary: Hearing an awful wailing at night, Mello is convinced there's a ghost in the Wammy's House. Determined to solve this "case" he begins to investigate. What he finds out, isn't as expected...
1. Chapter 1

**It would always begin in the middle of the night. The perfect time for a child of four or five to be frightened; when the dim moonlight cast shadows on furniture and doorframes, making everything come to life. You could feel the cool, ghostly air rising from the wood floors and hear the creatures slithering underneath your bed. I would always try to will the thoughts away but some nights, when I thought everything would be okay and I could get a good night of rest something else would scare me senseless. In May, just a few months after my fifth birthday, every single night an awful wailing would begin, right around midnight when all the children should have been asleep. It was unearthly, something terrifying, something ghostly. My five year old mind was thoroughly convinced that a ghost walked the long hallways of the Wammy House. A former resident who died in the yard or in a bathroom, maybe.**

"**Waaahhh, waaahhh!" a shiver shook its way through my small frame and I groped at my pajama-clad chest for the black-beaded rosary that always hid behind the fabric of my shirt. It was here again; the ghost child. I squirmed onto my stomach and tucked my knees to my chest, silvery cross clutched desperately in my thin fingers. Hazardously I'd pull the covers over my blonde hair in a feeble attempt to hide myself, just in case the ghost child decided to fade through my door to find me.**

"**Dear Lord above," I'd begin to make up a prayer since I hadn't memorized nearly enough yet, "Please retrieve this child wondering the halls away from the Earthly world and back into your loving arms in Heaven. Amen." Small footsteps would grow closer and closer but every time I thought the ghost child would stop in my room the footsteps would start to fade away. Lying in bed for minutes, hours; I couldn't guess how much time passed. To frightened to move because of the cold, anxious fear in the pit of my gut I would start to let my insanely curious mind wander. Hundreds of questions would stifle their way through my mind and I'd eventually flop into a more comfortable sleeping position. Although I was sure that the ghost child was in my room watching me, I somehow found a way to fall asleep.**

**Like everyday my beeping alarm clock woke me at seven o' clock, disregarding the fact that I'd had an awful night of rest. Slashing the comforter off of my thin frame, violently I slammed my fist on the top of the LED lit clock. I was still becoming accustom to getting myself up and ready. Even after being at the House for nearly a year, every time the alarm would start beep, beep, beeping my thoughts would unconsciously drift to the soft hand that used to brush back my light hair from my face to rouse me from a sleeping state, the gentle voice telling me to wake up before my breakfast got cold. Wammy's House were apparently very confident that small children could get up and out on their own.**

**With a childish scowl I snatched my toiletries from my bedroom desk and headed for the bathroom, ready to endure another same-old, same-old day of schooling. I marked my night of hearing things as just a nightmare that felt real. I trotted to the bathroom and let the hot shower soak away my troubles. The steamy bathroom lulled me, and I became even more tired than I had when I'd awoken. Shaking off the fog in my head I turned off the water and finished getting ready for the day, sprinting to my classroom when I realized my shower had lasted ten minutes too long.**

**Never before had I had trouble paying attention while trying to learn. Than again, I'd never had such an awful night of sleep before. Sighing and resting my head on my hand, I darted my eyes across the classroom eyes landing on multiple things as I did so. Children around my age were flipping pages in their thick textbooks silently, reading as the teacher had instructed just a few minutes ago. The only two who seemed to be distracted was myself, staring at things with a bored, half-lidded expression, and the auburn-haired boy who **_**never **_**paid any attention anyway. My eyes rested on him and the dull glow of light coming from underneath his desk. We had spoken once or twice; he had shown me the direction of the dining room when I was still getting used to the large building but other than that I didn't know much about him besides that his alias was Matt and he was hardly in the sane world. Much rather playing on his worn-out aquamarine Gameboy. I didn't have much of an opinion on that one, he was all right, but much to lazy for me to befriend.**

**A soft hand touched my shoulder and I whipped my head around to see our teacher, with a sour look of confusion on her face. My heart beat rapidly; I had never been in trouble with authority before.**

"**Mello." she started, whispering so that she wouldn't disturb her precious class. "Why are you not reading pages 444 through 476?" A few heads turned regardless of the young woman's soft tone. Blood invaded my cheeks and I felt uneasy. Looking into her mud brown eyes I gave a small shrug and pulled my textbook out from inside my desk, turning the pages until they landed on the correct numbers. Her mouth was pushed into a straight line, as if she disapproved. I wasn't about to answer the question, it would only draw more attention, so I just started to read. Walking back to her desk with a shake of her head, she wrote something down on a piece of paper that I was sure would go to Mr. Ruvie, the "Vice Headmaster" of Wammy's House. This was ridiculous. I'd never gotten into trouble here before, why was she so mad at me? I was reading now wasn't I? Hot tears of embarrassment and resentment flooded my eyes, but I held them back. I glanced up and saw all sorts of eyes on me. Suddenly I felt anger towards Matt for not getting in trouble when I did. He was always getting away with things. His shadowed eyes glanced up at me for mere second before returning to his small handheld. I pouted full force and continued with my studies, feeling upset and withdrawn from the rest of the class. Never again do I want to get negative attention from a teacher.**

**[[Got this idea while reading a doujin. This is the shortest chapter I have ever posted and it feels… lame. So I'm going to apologize for something that I could have fixed but was too lazy too. Sorry. ^^" I just felt like it's been too long! Last post was Thanksgiving. It's been far too long! Next chapter will probably be longer. We'll see. =____="**

**So, like it? Hated it? Advice? Drop a review.**

**Don't-own-eet! If I did I would have all the sweet Death Note merchandise and everybody would look at me like a freak! Oh wait… they already do… K thx, bai!]]**


	2. Chapter 2

**[[This took much longer to get out than it should have because, seriously, it took me forever to figure out what Matt and Mello should do. I had the tree house idea, but than decided I wanted to use it for something else. Than, weeks later, when I figured out I wasn't going to get another idea for their little "adventure" I decided to use the treehouse idea anyway. Be planning on seeing a oneshot about it in the near future.**

**Oh, and I want to give a big thanks to AngelsColdFire. I am dedicating this chapter to her, because it took me this long to respond to her nice feedback. She favorites and reviews on, like, everything I write. It makes me feel really honored. So thank you for helping me fend off hopelessness in my own writing. This one's to you, hope you like it. (;**

**Don't-own-eet. If I did, Matt would be celebrating his twentieth birthday today. Happy birthday Matt! K thx, bai!]]**

Night; chilling, lonely nighttime. It always came, of course, luring you into a false sense of peace with the sunset. The "majestic colors" and "exquisite beauty". I, myself, began to think that dark night by myself wouldn't be so bad. I told myself that the noises from the night before were obviously my warped nightmares or my wild imagination. As far as I'd ever been told, children were rarely accurate with their assumptions. I brushed away my own childish fears as best I could. As bedtime rolled around and I got under the dark blue comforter, curling up and trying to fall asleep before I heard anymore noises. Because surely hearing things two nights in a row wasn't a coincidence. A shiver rolled through me regardless of the cold.

I had to get to sleep before I went crazy.

Blackness, a numb state of mind. I hated the feeling of an incomplete sleep. I glanced at my alarm clock and the digits read neatly 2:14. Groaning in annoyance and discomfort I rolled clumsily onto my stomach, pulling the comforter up around my small shoulders. What had woken me up? It wasn't like me to have restless sleep without reason. After waiting a few seconds I attempted to fall back into the slumber I had fallen out of. Sniffles emitted their way in from outside. My whole being froze. Don't tell me that I had woken up to the ghost child's cries! This was defiantly not a nightmare, nor a figment of my imagination. I wanted to call out to somebody, any of the caretakers who could hear me and save me from the undead! The sniffles turned to crying and the crying to, once again, wails of pain and sadness. The ghost child continued down the hall; further and further away. My frozen being started to shake. This had to stop, but-- how?

I awoke to a groggy body and heavy eyelids. In a haze, of morning sunlight in my eyes and cold air, my thoughts returned to last night.

Not _again._

How would this ever stop? I'd be sleepless for the rest of my life. (I didn't realize that I wouldn't even _be _at Wammy's for the remainder of my life.) Maybe I could do some investigating on the awful noises that I had heard last night. Figure out what this was coming from and stop it. That seemed like an enjoyable idea, it was sort of like my own mini-investigation. I could be just like Sherlock Holmes or L. Smiling at the thought of doing something besides studying or wandering the pews of Wammy's vast church like I did nearly everyday after classes were over, I wiped my sleepy eyes and headed for the showers.

In a hurry, I ran to class, late again. This was not like me. Not at all. I hurried down the empty hall, not watching where I was going. Suddenly, my foot caught on a human-sized blur sitting on the speckled carpet, and I tumbled to the floor at an awful speed. So much inertia ended badly.

"God! Ow!" I screeched and tried to feel where I hurt before I moved. My face and elbows had planted into the scratchy flooring, scratching me up and giving me a bloody nose.

"Ah, shoot." I heard a voice from behind me, "I'm sorry. I- I." Slowly and carefully I sat up, criss-crossing my legs and inspecting my cut up arms. It was the gamer kid from my class who had been so brilliantly sitting near the sharp turn of the halls, playing his stupid Gameboy. I cringed at the pain and pinched my nose, bright blood dribbling onto the fabric of my shirt.

"What'd you do that for?" I glowered, nasal-sounding considering my conk* was plugged. I held back the tears that threatened to spill over the rims of my eyes and put on my deadliest glare. The auburn-haired "Matt" put the console in his jeans pocket and crawled over to me.

"I didn't mean to. Oh," he said inspecting me, "Looks like a doozy. You shouldn't pinch it like that, I think."

Anger boiled inside of me at this petering little bugger. "You have no right to tell me what to do! _You're_ the one who tripped me in the first place!" He avoided my eyes, at all times. Like he was afraid that looking into my glare would light him with the Devil's fire. I waited for him to say something but he just fumbled with a loose string on the hem of the emerald shirt he wore. After a few moments, lasers from my eyes piercing his head, he looked up with a small, teasing smile playing across his face.

"You can give me a bloody nose. If you really want to."

With that, my right arm that had been holding my injured nose flew from my own face and whacked him, right on the honker. A few drips of my own blood were splattered across his pale cheek and now, his face matched mine. Bloody. Tears filled his ocean blue eyes and he stood up, lickity-split.

"Wanker! Nobody actually does that!" he spat at me. I shook my hand a few times; he had a hard face. With a shrug, I said, "You _did_ ask for it." For an awkward moment he just gaped at me, and than sat back on the floor where he had last been. He opened his mouth to say something, shut it again, opened it again, shut it again. The action was very fish-like. I stared at him like he was insane. Finally, looking me in the eye gave up his silence and he busted out into uncontrollable laughter.

"I like you!" he roared, slapping me on the back. He must have had a screw loose. _Poor kid_, I scooted further from him, eyeing him wearily. "Who would've done that? Only you." he shakes his auburn locks in a humorous way as if he couldn't believe I would do such a thing. "Who are you anyway?" his large grin melted into a more normal expression.

Scoffing, I claimed boldly, "Mello." like it was a title that deserved to be earned. A mischievous, yet awe-struck smile returned and he told me his alias, although I already knew it. His tone was lazy and uncaring. I guess a first introduction says a lot about a person. "So, Meellllooo." he tried the name out by giving it a drawl. Mentally, I cringed. "This hurts like a mother fu--"

"Hey." I warned, before he could say anything.

He rolled his eyes. Surely he would think me being offended by a cuss word was strange, but he didn't say it anyway. That was a plus. I liked when people did what I wanted. "Anyway, this hurts." tilting his head up and cringing, he continued, "Think we should go to the nurse? What if it's broken?"

"If it was broken," I replied, "You would know. Trust me. You'll be fine, you weenie." We both pinched our bleeding noses and looked at each other and even I almost started laughing. We must look ridiculous. What a sight for someone to take in, two genius kids, pinching their noses and bleeding all over the carpet while grinning like drunken fools. What a pair we were. At least my image of Matt, the guy-that showed-me-where-the-dining-room, was gone. Now when I thought of him it would be this. He was weird, but not as bad as I had originally expected.

"So," he started, "Wanna ditch with me?" The kid was in the age of an average kindergartener and he was already ditching class. I'd never done anything of the sort before. Sensing my nervous disposition (that, or reading the expression on my face) Matt jumped up and taped my shin with his sneakered foot.

"It'll be fun, I _swear._ We'll be back before lunch." There was no way I could trust this kid but… what harm would it do, really? Confident that he'd ditched before and knew all the loopholes, I assured myself that we wouldn't be caught. Unless he was really stupid.

"Fine." I heard myself agreeing, "But we're going to the bathroom first. I kind of want to wash this blood off of my face."

Matt had a "sanctuary". Hoofing it to the backyard, hopping over Wammy's tall fence, through yards and yards of trees, we finally came to a small opening. Matt was huffing and puffing from all the physical strain. I was almost positive he didn't get out much.

"Feel special." he pants, "I hardly even come here. Too much work. I just found it one day and was saving it for something cool, like my first special place or something like that, but I'm sure you'd be better at figuring something out for it. You just seem like that kind of person." I didn't understand what he was talking about. All that it appeared to be was a few yards of field. Yellowing grass here, a few blossoming flowers there. Nothing out of the ordinary. Matt, after regaining his breath, started again.

"You're looking in all the wrong places, Mello." he waltzed to the end of the field, furthest from where we came, and motioned for me to come over. Wearily I walked over to where he stood and as soon as the large tree trunk that blocked most of the view was behind me I could see what Matt was talking about. He motioned to a wide-branched pine tree a few yards from where we stood. Placed preciously in the strong branches was a sturdy-looking tree house. Although not big, I wouldn't have the nerve to call it small either. I had to admit, I was impressed.

Matt put a thin arm around my shoulder. "See, I told you that you were looking in the wrong places." I nodded and agreed for once. Matt continued, "I haven't been inside of it yet; I never really had a knack to just clamber up trees like a monkey." I brushed off his arm and marching toward the sanctuary. If he hadn't seen it than who knew what kind of secret things could be in there? I put my hands on the bark as I stood next to the pine, enjoying the simple roughness on my hands. I used to love climbing around when I was with my mom. Sighing at the memory, I realized that the ladder to this place was nonexistent. No wonder Matt couldn't get into it.

I looped around the base and found myself a low enough branch. Matt was now standing a way away from me, watching in mute curiosity. "Follow my lead," I told him, "I know you want to see inside too." He grinned ear to ear and clambered after me, for I was already making my way onto the next branch. It was tricky, I'll tell you, but soon enough both of us hauled ourselves, stomach first, into the tree house. Being the first one to steady myself and stand, I helped Matt get the rest of his body in. Since his lower half was still dangling helplessly as he grunted and puffed in strain and annoyance, I figured it was a nice thing to do. Once we both stood, we inspected the place carefully. Whoever had built this had put a lot of work into it. Neither I nor Matt could touch the ceiling and we could both walk around without trouble. This place was bigger than it looked on the outside. The tree trunk was a big part of the foundation to the architecture. Without it the whole structure would come tumbling to the ground. It was literally part of the walls. There were inked-pen drawings of shapes and objects hung on the walls with a rusty nail or two. The picture's actual contents couldn't be made out because the paper had gotten wet and the ink had run. Either way, it was eerie. A worn circle-shaped rug with dull bands of orange and green was placed in the center of the tree house and one small reading chair was placed atop of it. It all had a musty smell, I guessed from the years of Winchester's rain and humidity that was so common during the summer. A rusty tin can was filled with pens and pencils and pieces of wet paper were stuck under it, a book with a red cover to the right of that. Besides all of that stuff, the place was pretty empty considering it was so much larger than we had intended.

Matt let out a low, impressed whistle. A skill I had yet to master. "It's pretty cool, you know? I wonder who's it is." I wrinkled up my nose a bit and did a three-sixty of the site. The only opening was the doorway where we had climbed in, which faced the west. Hardly any sun was coming through. It made everything more unearthly. "If we're going to make this our place," I started, "than we have to find a way to let in more light. I swear this place is like Davy Jones locker. I can practically _feel_ the spider webs that are here."

He beamed at my words, kid was easily impressed. "Sure thing. How are we going to do that?" I shrugged, "We'll figure something out."

"Yea…" he ran our conversation into the depths of silence. With a quick turn of the heel, he spun around and plunked his bum onto the edge of the doorframe, high-tops dangling dangerously over the side. The fall was a long way, looking down at the forest floor now. I sat next to him, getting a thrill in the way it was all positioned. It felt like you were just floating in midair. The floor of the sanctuary was jutting out far enough from the tree that you couldn't see the trunk and high up enough that you could see the trees in the distance. It was breathtaking. We didn't speak. There was no need to, it's not like it was awkward. The both of us just enjoyed each other's presence and the view and feel of morning.

Lunch was always a bore; although the ditch day with Matt was fun, it was back to the ordinary. I nibbled at the chocolate pudding the cooks provided mutely, resisting the urge to put my bruised nose against the cool plastic of the pudding cup. Sighing as the bell rang and I continued the day with a new appreciation for the sneaky little redhead.

The rest of the day passed slowly, but eventually ended, with only a few pages of work to complete for the next day. We couldn't exactly call it "homework" seeing as the teaching areas and living areas were in the same building. Never the procrastinator, I rushed to my room and slammed the door, ready to get my work out of the way. I padded across the wooden floor, rolled back the chair to my own personal desk, and began with English. Spelling, a few pointers and questions on grammar; easy as pie. Simple. Almost _too_ easy; although, much more of a challenge the average schooling I used to receive. I flew through the work with ease, checked it, double checked it, and once I was sure it was finished to my liking I swiveled in the wheeled chair, head filled with different thoughts. Where did a detective start? I reflected back to the investigations class Wammy's House required for all ages. Shifting my mind back to the beginning of the year. It all started… at the scene of the crime, of course! I leapt from the seat and went into the vast hallway that was just outside of my room. Redwood floors and light colored paint to match, it didn't seem like a place where a ghost would wander… maybe I could stay outside of my bedroom door until nighttime, when the ghost child actually arrived.

**[[*conk- a European/UK slang term for nose. Look it up sometime. (;**

**I know that this was a really lame ending but I really wanted to post it on Matt's birthday. Soo, yea. I need to start on the next one. Annnddd, at least this one is longer than the last right? Hope you enjoyed? Any advice? Review!**

**PS. Who wants to count how many times I put the word "nose" in there? =~=]]**


	3. Chapter 3

[[So, it's excuse time for a late update! My mom lost my laptop. Who the hell does that? It's a laptop. C'mon, seriously! And, to anybody who cares (nobody) I have officially moved into a new house! /freaks out/ I've only lived in two other houses and my "old" house I've lived in since I was in kindergarten. Needless to say moving has been a weird thing for me. Boxes are frustrating.

So, I've been craving my stories when my laptop was lost, and there seems to be a new fire under my ass wanting me to write. Yaaayyy. Maybe more updates and ideas now that it's summer?

Kay, sorry for this long arse A/N. I always tell myself not to put one, but I can't help it!

Don't-own-eet! If I did ...… Yaaayyy, my baby~! /hugs laptop/ K thx, bai!]]

I stood just outside of my bedroom, hands on my hips, lips pursed in thought. The idea to actually wait outside and see the undead gave me the chills and yet my logical mind told me that it had to be done. I was ashamed to admit I was too chicken to do it alone, but who else would be willing to do something so unbelievable with me? I really had no close friends yet, I was just barely getting over the term "new kid". The breath I had been unaware I was holding as released and I decided to head down to the kitchen. Nothing would help me more than some brain food. Trotting down the stairs and to the kitchen I grabbed the chocolate bar that I had left in the fridge the day before. Unwrapping the silver foil I took a tooth-breaking bite. This stuff got pretty solid when staying overnight in a fridge. I made my way back towards the stairs but stopped when I heard small noises that can only be described as "pew, pew!" With a raise of a blonde eyebrow I waltzed inside, taking another chunk out of the sweet.

"Diiieee." my ears picked up the whispered form of a threat, and I draped my arms over the worn leather sofa to see a very concentrated Matt. He was playing the Nintendo 64, as the golden console proudly stated. Creatures fought on screen and truthfully, I couldn't tell what they were. Matt was in some sort of out-of-this-world mode and didn't notice that I was merely inches from where he sat. That or he didn't acknowledge me what so ever. I waited patiently for his current game to finish… it just _wouldn't end_. I tapped my foot impatiently after only two minutes of standing behind, watching the stupid game. It was such a waste of time! We had better things to do. Scooting over the few inches that separated us, I tapped on Matt's head impatiently.

"Excuse me." I said in my most adult-pleasing voice, "Would you turn that stupid thing off? I've got something to tell you." Auburn hair obscured my view as he nudged me away from himself with his head.

"In a minute. I only get this thing for like, mmh, what? Thirty minutes a day? I just started. Just… wait…" His sentence trailed off into nothing and I fumed. He wasn't going to take me seriously at all. Either I could be nice and ask again… but that would give him free reign over me for the rest of forever. Or, I could be not so nice and just turn it off, making the chances of him talking to me again slim. At least it'd how him who was boss. Weighing my options delicately, I decided with the latter. Swishing my way past the back of the sofa like a mother to her disobedient child, I clicked the "Restart" button on the machine. It was warm, showing he had been playing more than thirty minutes already. He gave me a sheepish smile; we were on a genius level, he knew what I was thinking as I quirked my eyebrow at him.

"Okay… maybe not only thirty minutes." he chuckled and slowly dropped the hand holding the controller to his side. "Did 'ya really need to restart me? I only saved a few minutes ago! What a waste." I didn't respond, instead giving him the silent treatment. I have to admit, this kid caught on fast. Only moments after the "treatment" had started he caved, knowing he was going nowhere.

"Fine, fine." he stood up and placed the controller back on top of the game system, where it belonged. "I can tell hangin' out with you is gonna be more trouble than it's worth."

"Hey!"

"I'm just kidding!" he yelped back to my outburst. "If I didn't want to stay with you, I wouldn't.." he seemed kind of embarrassed, so I just ignored the tone. Like I knew what to do with antisocial gamers' emotions; plus, his nervousness was getting to me. "Anyway, you had something oh-so important to tell me?"

My eyes shifted around the room for a moment before returned to him and staring at his eyes; our two different shades of blue locking for just a millisecond. Matt just as quickly looked away from me. This was becoming more typical. Pushing another sigh at his expense, I leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"It _is _important. So let's go to the sanctuary and talk it over, mmkay?"

His brows crinkled in confusion for a split second, before the clouded expression passed and he got the gist of all the "sanctuary" talk. Clarity proved me correct as he nodded and spoke a bit too loudly, "Oh, the tree house! I get it; I like that… Sanctuary. It makes it sound official and-" I clapped my hand over his mouth; cutting off his aggressive flow of words.

"Shhhh! Would you keep it down? If this is between you and me, than we have to try our best to keep it that way. Is that clear?" I slowly peeled my fingers from his lips.

"Crystal." he replies, cheery as ever.

"All right than, let's _go_ already. Jeesh." I grabbed onto his arm and pulled, and we raced down the halls, a teacher or so yelling at us to slow down. Their scolding fell on deaf ears as we continued down the hall, hand in hand.

Once again, Matt had to lead the way to the tree house. I had only been there once and I wasn't keen on remembering it's location. He brushed back tall weeds and over grown grass with a sweep of a thin hand so I could more easily walk through, behind him. When we reached the bottom of the tree that our sanctuary sat upon, I knew I was going to have to lead the way up again. Not that I minded. I enjoyed being the leader.

At the top, with an "umph" and flailing limbs, Matt made it into the tree house. Breathless, he shifted his position so he sat cross-legged and asked again, "So, what's all the fuss about, Mello? If we gotta get this far away from society…" he let out a little chuckle. He didn't continue, just looked at me and waited for my bit of information. I gulped air into my cheeks and puffed it out again, attempting to sort my thoughts and put them into the correct words that would help me convince Matt that I was as serious as they get. His puppy-dog eyes kept glancing up at me when I wasn't looking directly at him but as soon as we made eye contact his deep blue's would focus on the wooden floor, his hands in his lap, or even my shoes.

"Matt," I started suddenly, the words just flowing out on their own accord, "I'm asking you as my very first friend to trust me… You know you can trust me, right?" Matt's head bobbed up and down in positive response, "Sure, Mel. Whatever you say."

I nodded after him, solemnly, than continued. "What I'm about to share with you is a piece of information that I've never shared with anybody else. Something about the halls of Wammy's…" I leaned closer toward him, cupping a hand around my mouth as if it would keep the words from spreading elsewhere. "Matt. I have reason to believe that there are paranormal activities occurring in the Wammy House. Now," I pulled back and talked a bit louder, "before you can call me crazy and demand that I need to see help, I need you to hear the facts. Are you willing to hear the facts, Matt?"

He was grinning ear to ear. "Oh, defiantly, Mello. I believe you, honest."

A form of a smile appeared on my face. This wasn't the reaction I was expecting. And I liked that. "You're pretty unpredictable. You know that?" I told him as he nodded. I chuckled behind my hand. Back to the point…

"Anyway, for the past few night I've been waking up to terrible noises coming from down the hall. It sounds like someone sobbing. A little kid. Maybe a former Wammy's resident? I'm not sure yet. So, I was thinking, the only way to find out if my assumptions are true… I think we should have a stake-out."

Matt laughed a bit, and stared at me with a goofy grin on his face. "I'll see if I can get some coffee and donuts. Haha…" I raised an eyebrow at him, clearly he was crazy. That was pretty random. Scrunching up my nose I asked what he was talking about. He sighed and shook his head, "Never mind, Mello. It's- nah, never mind."

"Okay than…" I pouted. "Do you think you can manage to sneak out of your room and come to mine at eleven? I think Mr. Ruvie's rounds are finished about than…" I trailed off as Matt spoke up again, "They're finished the room-checks at eleven. But than he does one more just around the halls at one. Or, he has someone do it for him. Lazy-ass." I scowled at Matt's curse, and his knowledge.

"How do you know?"

"C'mon. You doubt me! Think I haven't snuck out before?" he chuckled again and said plainly, "I'll be there."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

[[NO! Matt doesn't LIKE Mello like that. He's, like, five give these guys a break. Lol. Matt's just not used to social interaction and now that he found someone remotely interesting he's trying too hard not to lose it. Which turns out being sorta awkward. ^^;; So yeah… five year old's don't usually think that kind of stuff. (:]]


	4. Chapter 4

[[This story is sort of fail, due to the style of writing that I'm trying out (What! If you never try you'll never know if it works. ;A;) But I still plan on finishing. I mean, have I EVER finished a multi-chapter fic yet? No. Thought not. Plus, I have more multi-chapters fics that I want to start but I promised I'd finish Haunted first. So, taadaa! Chapter four.]]

At about eleven thirty the tapping came at my door. It came as a failed attempt at the Mario theme song, but at least I recognized what it was supposed to be. I had fallen into a half-sleep by the time Matt got to my room so the sudden noise startled me into consciousness, making me cranky.

I needed my beauty sleep, okay?

I stumbled over to the door and opened it in more-than-a-little frustrated manner. There stood a bright-eyed and bushy tailed Matt. He was obviously a night owl, unlike myself who (usually) got up at dawn to read the Bible or study Mathematics or anything I wanted to do, really. As long as it was silent and broke no rules. That is I _did _until this ghost child had been waking me up in the middle of the night. Matt's face suddenly broke into a smile and I moved aside to let him in.

"Soo," he started, in his usual drawl, "I did some research today. I didn't get the coffee and donuts for our stakeout but I did learn a few facts about, ya' know… ghosts." The wicked grin that adorned his face concerned me. Just a bit. This kid seemed up for the adrenaline.

"And what did you learn?"

"Uhm, just some signs, you know? Like what happens before a ghost appear and stuff like that. But I dunno. I only looked it up on the internet, and as everybody warns it can't be trusted."

I stared. "Than why'd you bother?"

"It was fun." Matt pouted a bit, scrunching his nose and folding his arms. "Why not? It was my free time not yours."

"That's stupid." I replied, getting more and more angry at nothing as my lids grew heavier with sleep.

"I was just trying to help."

His tone was now quieter and I felt guilty immediately, of course. But I wasn't going to apologize. He just needed to move on.

I began, "Anyway, I think it's best if we take shifts. So we can at least wake up for classes tomorrow." He nodded. It was a good idea, plus I needed to sleep sometime. I hadn't had a good night's sleep in two days. "So, do you want to stay awake first or should I?"

Matt obviously told me to sleep. I bet he could see the tiredness on my face. Grateful, I crawled into my bed.

"Wake me up in an hour okay? The time is right here." I pushed my alarm clock on my desk so it faced him. The LED lit numbers illuminating his skin in the darkness. "Or, if you hear anything weird wake me up."

Matt nodded and saluted me playfully. "Yes sir."

I put my head on my pillow. "And Matt?"

"Hmmm?"

"Hide if Roger is walking around."

I heard him chuckle and shift positions. "Duh, dummy."

I was drifting but I needed to tell him one more thing, "And don't fall asleep. I'll kill you, I swear."

Matt laughed again. "Are you always this bossy? Go to sleep Mello."

I scowled, but I was practically asleep already.

Before it all went black, I remembered to say, "And thanks, Matt."

A hand was on my shoulder, shaking me gently. Warm, loving.

"M-momma?" I grumbled. She was there, I knew it.

"Mello?" _Mihael?_

I crinkled my brow in confusion. Mellow? What did she mean by that?

"Mello." _Mihael_. A little harsher this time.

"Momma?" I groaned.

"_Mello. _Wake _up_." There was an abrupt, violent shake on my shoulder and this time I did wake up. I sat up with a jolt, remembering that _I_ was Mello now. Orphanage. Wammy's House. Right…

When Matt's silhouette appeared in my vision I couldn't repress a blush. I thanked the Lord above that it was dark enough in my room that Matt wasn't able to see it. I prayed that I hadn't been calling my mother out loud. That was just… unacceptable.

"Father forgive." I whispered under my breath, "Matt you scared me to high Hell. Don't do that."

"I had to wake you up sometime." he whined, "I was dozing. Your turn to keep watch." I flung the sheets to my side and got out of the bed. It was cooler out of the sheets. I didn't want to do this anymore. My bare feet hit the cold floor. I really didn't want to do this anymore. I held in any form of sound or obnoxious whining that threatened to escape my throat. Than I would sound like Matt did right now. And that was grating on my nerves.

I sat on the wooden floor, pulling my knees to my chest. I thought I should read or something of that sort, but the thought was quickly abandoned. As if I'd be able to focus on the words with my sleep-deprived mind. Instead, I pulled my rosary out from under my shirt, clutching the small cross in my fist. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree…

Matt sat next to me and I eyed him wearily, but, keeping to the "no-noise" policy that I had just created I stayed silent. A few minutes past, the silence awkward. I turned my head and opened my mouth, words ready to fly until I noticed Matt was _sleeping_. On my shoulder no less.

"Father above…" I started, rolling my eyes. This kid just surprised me more and more. Maybe he could return the favor though. He'd never know. I leaned my head softly to the side, using Matt's red hair as a make-shift pillow. Not bad…

I clutched my rosary tighter, a slight sting in my palm. I had to make sure not to fall asleep. The tiny, cross-shaped pain would do it's job. I wouldn't sleep. I grinned smugly to myself. The ghost child couldn't scare me now. I had backup; I had a friend.

"Mello. C'mon. Not this again." I blinked my eyes open to the sight of Matt. It was much easier to wake up the second time. But when realization hit I nearly smacked myself.

"Matt. I fell asleep on the shift didn't I?" His lips pursed.

"It seems that way, yeah. After all that fuss about _me_ not falling asleep you go and do it yourself."

I gave him my best glare. He looked down at his hands as if they were suddenly _so_ interesting. That's what I thought. It's not like I _meant_ to fall asleep. It did make me feel kind of irresponsible though, so I mentally smacked myself… again.

"Well, hear anything at all? Anything weird?" I asked, voice full of hope. I didn't want to feel crazy anymore. The boy across from me shook his head and I let out an agitated sigh. This was all my fault. The one night that I happen to sleep through the ghost-child's noises it's when I call in for backup. And fall asleep on that backup, thus making me seem crazy…er than I normally did.

"Shniza." Matt grumbled, offhandedly. Before I can ask he continues with, "It's nearly five am. I guess we slept longer than we thought. Sorry Mel, about not catching this ghostie. Maybe another time? I should get back to my room before-"

"Before Roger checks in. Yeah I know." Matt gave me an apologetic look. I wasn't sure to take it as pity or general sympathy about leaving but I decided not to swell on the thought too much. I didn't like to be pitied.

"It's alright Matt. Like you said, maybe another time."

"Okay… I'll see you later than Mel!" he grinned as he practically tiptoed out of my room. Once the door clicked silently behind him I replied.

"And don't give me nicknames, you goof."

I was smiling regardless.

[[-gags at the mush- OVERKILL, OVERKILL!

…Sorta… I couldn't help it! ;A;

Well anyway. I hope you actually got through that filler chapter of mine. Only three more to go and we're done! Hip-hip hooraayy! I'm sorta excited to A) Be finishing my first not-one-shot and B) To see how you guys like the end. ;DD…]]


	5. Chapter 5

[[I. Am. So. Sorry.

You've all probably abandoned this poor story. Who remembers something like this after so many months have passed? AND, even worse, this is a filler chapter. It's official. I'm a bad person…

*sniff* Please don't hit me with virtual pots and pans. ):

Anyway…

Chapter five awaaayyy! Woowoo! All aboard!

…

…..

*shot*]]

I wondered mutually, the next morning, if the reason I hadn't heard the noises that night was because of Matt. It bothered me that we both hadn't heard a word, sound, sniffle, et cetra. Maybe it was because I felt comforted that I wasn't alone. Maybe it was because I fell into a deeper sleep due to the lack that I had gotten two nights before. Who knows. Maybe I really was just crazy.

It was already after classes and I worked on the homework I was given, nibbling my pencil eraser. I couldn't concentrate on my studies. This was a problem. All I could think of was the mystery of the ghost child and why, why, _why_ hadn't anything happened last night? With a clank I threw my pencil into it's holder (I had a small cup for my writing utensils, okay?) and hurried out of my room. Fresh air would be good for me. I strolled through the halls with a chocolate bar in my hand, slowing my pace the more I progressed. Unconsciously, I was looking for Matt because I suddenly walked into the game room where he was, once again, seated directly in front of the television. His eyes were glued to the screen and a controller was in his palms. I swear, the boy had issues.

Nothing a little fun couldn't cure.

I tiptoed silently behind his back, not even taking a bite out of my chocolate. That would only disrupt the silence. As soon as I was in range, I wrapped my arm around his neck and put the gamer into a killer headlock.

"Accckkk!"

"Hello Matt. I see you've been wasting your time with these stupid games once again."

"Mel?" he croaked, "Uncle, uncle! Release!" After a few more half-strangled noises coming from his throat and small flailing arms, I let him go and grinned mischievously at him.

"No need for violence, Mello." he groaned, rubbing the side of his neck. I merely shrugged, continuing to ravish my bar of chocolate. I leant back against the wall to our right, trying to collect my thoughts.

"Matt."

"Hmmm?" He was still rubbing his aching neck.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

"I believe you, Mello."

"…"

I looked at him skeptically before he plopped himself on the ground with a "seriously!".

"Just because we didn't hear something last night doesn't really mean that you're lying. You know what I think?" He didn't pause to let me answer. Rhetorically questioning, I suppose. "I think that maybe the ghost didn't come cause it knew what we were planning."

"And what do you suppose we were planning, Matt?" I replied, licking the melted chocolate on my middle finger.

"I dunno… something. Ghosts can read our minds better than we can, I think."

"Do you?"

"Yes." He looked at my face and composure carefully, "Wait a minute! You're totally not taking me seriously right now, are you?"

"I never said that, Matt. I'm just glad you aren't going to turn my so-called delusions into Ruvie."

"'Course not."

A beat of silence passed with only the occasional nibble of chocolate or awkward cough Matt gave.

"Soo…" he began.

"So. Let's go." I threw the metallic wrapper into the garbage as I passed through the doorway. I knew Matt would follow even without looking.

"Where're we goin' Mello?" he piped up after a few seconds of catching up to my steady pace.

"Investigate. It may be pointless during the day, because I haven't heard anything during this time of day but it's worth a shot. It all starts at the scene of the crime you know." Matt nodded at my words and we ascended the staircase, making it into the upstairs hall where my room was. I sat in front of my doorway, although the door was still closed, and Matt sat in front of me.

We awkwardly glanced at each other every few seconds. I didn't want to admit it, but I had no idea where to go from here. I was at the investigation spot, sure, but what do you do to investigate _this_ kind of mystery? A groan of frustration caught in my throat as a figure of white passed my peripherals. Nearly giving myself whiplash, I did a double-take to look at the ghostly creature.

I gaped like a fish. Grabbing Matt's face with my right hand, I spun his head in the direction of the ghost. It was a boy in pajamas, white hair, and deathly pale.

"Holy Mother of Mary." I whispered, crossing myself, "Matt do you see it! It's the ghost! In plain sight!" The ghost child glanced straight at me with cool eyes as he brushed past us. Matt burst out in laughter and I turned back to him slowly, eyes wide. He must be going through some sort of shock.

"Ahahahahaa! Mello! Oh my God!"

I could feel my shocked expression turn into a scowl at Matt's strange behavior. The ghost boy disappeared to the downstairs. I scowled even more. Matt was clutching his striped stomach and falling over onto the wooden floor.

"What!" I screeched, shocking Matt for a moment out of his stupor.

"That's not a ghost! It's just a Near!" he giggled a little more, wiping a tear from his eye.

"What's a near?" I growled, hating not knowing something Matt did.

"He's Near. That's his name. Well, his alias I guess. He's one of us. He's not a ghost. Just. Near."

I glared and pouted all at the same time.

"How was I supposed to know? Who wears pajamas in the middle of the day, really? And why does he have white hair! That's stupid!"

Matt shrugs his thin shoulders. "It's just… Near."

"That's stupid."

Matt rolls his eyes at my dramatics.

"No." he says, "That was hilarious."

"Whatever." I huffed, "I'm leaving. There's no point in this if you're just going to keep laughing like a moron."

I stood up to leave, but didn't even get halfway before Matt tugged on my sleeve. I kind of suspected that was going to happen.

"No wait, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to laugh at you. It was just funny, that's all. To me…" He looked up at me desperately, pathetically. He wouldn't meet my eyes but still tried to make an effort.

"Please don't leave." he continued, "I'll be bored. You shut off my game… we can go to the tree house." Smiling as if that was the key to make me stay.

"Alright, fine. I won't leave. For the sanctuary's sake. We still have work to do on that place." I sighed, helping Matt up off of his bum.

"Sweet, let's go."

Before Matt began to trot off, I grabbed him by the sleeve.

"If we want to fix up that place, we should get supplies."

Matt was looking at me from over his striped shoulder.

"Oh yeah, huh. That would be smart. But, from where? How about we just clean out all the stuff from the inside and than try and do the rest later on?"

"… Fine."

As much as I didn't like following someone else's orders, I didn't like looking stupid for not being able to get something I'd said we needed even more. So Matt had me beat me on that one, and we made our way outside the gates of Wammy's with minds set on a job and black garbage sacks stuffed up our shirts.

[[Fail chapter, fail chapter, fail chapter. I'm so sorry guys. D:

I'll try and be faster with updates.]]


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